


heels

by jaimelanniser



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimelanniser/pseuds/jaimelanniser
Summary: In which Jon makes a sexist comment and Sansa does not let it slide.





	heels

The door swung open and the crowd of friends tumbled onto the street, vodka bottles in hand and Uber apps open as they searched in the dark for their cab.

“Sansa, I can’t do this,” Jon’s voice called out behind her, and she whipped around when she felt his hand closing around her wrist. He was giving her puppy eyes, his mouth turned down into a pout, but she only laughed.

“Well, you’ll find a wear to bear it. You know the deal, and if you back out of it now, everyone else is only going to mock you for it for the rest of your life,” she reminded him sweetly, reaching over to brush his curls back over his forehead.

Jon’s puppy eyes turned into a glare. “I’m going to break my ankles,” he hissed, as Robb started cheering behind them when their cab pulled up, and him and Theon began a chant of “U-ber, U-ber, U-ber!”

Sansa gave him a sympathetic smile and held out her hand to him. “Think about that the next time you tell me girls  _need_  to wear makeup,” she suggested.

Pride trampled, Jon ignored her offered hand and stalked ahead, and Sansa remained behind, if only to have the satisfaction of watching him hobble around in her red stilettos.

“Dorothy coming through!” Theon announced, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the news when Jon walked past.

Only Sam looked sympathetic to his plight, and he gave him a grimace as they all crowded into the two cars.

Sansa found herself between Jon and Margaery, with Robb having taken the front seat. Her brother turned his head around to grin at his best friend. “How are my ladies holding up tonight?”

Margaery leaned forward in her seat, and Sansa pretended she did not notice when her brother’s eyes immediately fell down to her cleavage, because  _gross._ “Robb, darling, are you calling Jon a lady because he’s wearing heels?” she asked, in that sickly sweet voice that Sansa knew meant danger.

Clearly Robb knew it too, because his amusement slipped from his face immediately and he lolled his head back around to the front. “No,” he muttered.

Smiling, Margaery lifted herself forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I thought so.”

Jon, meanwhile, was having a hard time keeping his feet on the ground, and Sansa almost felt pity for him, but if he didn’t have a hard time, he wouldn’t  _learn_ , she told herself. “Just turn your legs a little to the side so the heels are lying at an angle to the floor,” she whispered at him.

There was no response, as Jon stubbornly continued to struggle, until he seemed to give up, and sunk back into the seat, then reached towards the front for Robb’s vodka. “Hand it over, Stark.”

Robb did, and Jon popped the cap and took a large gulp of the stuff, only wrinkling his nose a little before taking another one. “I’m gonna need to lose all feeling in my feet if I’m to get through tonight,” he offered as explanation when Sansa raised her eyebrows at him.

She laughed in response. “Welcome to the club, babe,” she held up an imaginary glass for a cheers. “Let’s have some fun.”


End file.
